


the problem is that, if you keep smiling, im going to be physically sick

by marciscaspar



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Everyone Needs A Hug, Heavy Angst, M/M, Model!Eliott, Sad!Lucas, This Is Sad, and kinda shitty???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marciscaspar/pseuds/marciscaspar
Summary: lucas is at a party, and so is eliott, but the thing is, he kinda doesn’t wanna see him, because all he can think about is his smile. eliotts smile. his eliott—well, not anymore





	the problem is that, if you keep smiling, im going to be physically sick

**Author's Note:**

> this was just,,,,eh? but, i posted it anyways?

Lucas shouldn’t be surprised that Eliott looked good. Eliott had always looked good, at least in Lucas’ eyes; he had always loved Eliott’s bowl cut and skinny arms, slender torso, and green colored braces, even if others made fun of him for it. He thought Eliott always looked beautiful, endearing, and warm, so of course, he was happy when others started to see that too, whether it was girls or a modeling agency. 

He was just happy that Eliott was smiling. 

Even if that smiling was when Eliott announced to Lucas that he was moving to New York to pursue an acting career, away from their small town in Paris, away from school and their friends,

away from Lucas.

But, Eliott was smiling, and he looked so beautiful while doing it, so why should he be the one to break it by frowning, complaining, or crying? He couldn't do that, he wouldn't do that, not to Eliott.

So, he smiled too, albeit a fake one, but Eliott didn't need to know that. Lucas wouldn't say he was a good actor, but that performance deserved a fucking oscar, he held it in until he cycled all the way home, where he ran into his room, slammed the door, and cried until his body ran out of tears. 

That day, Eliott looked beautiful, and today, he did as well. He seemed to have finally grown into his tall frame, bony and slim torso now built and slender, muscle subsiding under his tan skin, creating muscle that Lucas could see as Eliott bent his arm. He was wearing a plain black shirt, not something extravagant or elegant, as an Elite Model should. No, he looked normal and like Eliott.

The same Eliott that made his heart thump furiously when he was a kid, only this time, his hair was unkempt and wild, and it suited him.

It suited Eliott. 

"Lucas? Earth to Lucas Lallemant?" Yann was snapping his fingers in front of his face now, attempting to reel in Lucas' diverted attention. 

"Huh? What?" His voice was airy and spacious, almost as if he just randomly threw those words out in conversation as if they had no meaning. 

"We're getting more beer. Want one?" Yann asked this in a questioning tone, but the question wasn't about the beers. His real question was almost coded, subliminal, under casual conversation.

_ "Are you okay?"  _

"No, I still have to finish this one." He held up his half-full beer can and shook in front of his face. 

_ "I'm fine."  _

"Are you sure you're okay, Lucas?"

_ "Are you sure you're okay, Lucas?"  _

"Yeah, Yann. I'm all good."

_ "Yeah, Yann. I'm all good."  _

"Okay, call if you need anything." Yann's head gestured backward to Basile and Arthur, who were arguing about something random, probably weed or some girl, but Lucas knew what Yann meant by that. 

_ "Hey, we're here. If you need us, just call. We love you, dude."  _

"I will." And Lucas smiled, leans his head against the cabinet behind him, and tilted it to the direction of the living room, signaling Yann to go. After letting out a sigh, Yann left the room, Arthur and Basile following suit, each with a ruffle of his hair and a smile, respectfully. Lucas allowed both to happen, smiling at his friends who exited the kitchen to go to the basement, which ironically had all the drinks.

That meant, however, that Lucas was alone, and Eliott was still in eye-range. So, he had to move. Logically. 

Lucas pushed himself off the counter, placed his half-empty can of beer on that said counter, and started to walk to his left, adjacent to where Eliott was, away from him. He wasn't avoiding him; he wasn't afraid; Lucas just hadn't seen Eliott in three years and doesn't feel prepared. 

Well, Lucas had seen him, on billboards and magazine covers; but, that wasn't the same. That was model Eliott, professional and sophisticated Eliott, that Eliott over there, the one smiling and giggling at someone's joke. That was the _real_ Eliott.

_ Lucas' Eliott _

But is Lucas really allowed to say that anymore?

Lucas has shaken out of his trance again, but this time, it was due to a body colliding with his, one that muffled a quick "sorry" before going to the left of him. Lucas recognized that body too, tall, dark, and pretty attractive, but he could never say that because Imane would crucify Lucas if she had heard him say those words about her brother.

Idriss, the brother, stopped suddenly, turning around to face Lucas before he looked him up and down. His eyes scanned Lucas' legs, torso, and face before he gave him a nod in return, continuing his path to wherever. That left Lucas in the middle of the dancefloor, bombarded with flashing purples and pinks, which were accompanied by some pop song playing in the background. Lucas never heard it before, but it's catchy. 

As he pushed through numerous drunk bodies, each dancing, singing, kissing, and probably fucking like the world was ending tomorrow, Lucas finally found his eyes settling on a group of girls sitting on a couch. They were interacting with each other like they were in their own little world, separate from the party. 

They were smiling, giggling, and each had a drink in their hand; Lucas knew that if he joined their little world, maybe, just maybe, he can clear his mind of...

nevermind.

"This seat taken?" Lucas asked playfully, watching as all the eyes turned towards him before they all looked back at each other. They exchanged glances, smiles, and then laughed, turning back to nod their head's to Lucas, inviting him in.

"Did you think we would say no?" Manon asked, shifting from her place next to Imane so she could create a space for Lucas to sit in, which he gladly took. Falling backward into the tight space, knocking into Imane in the process, Lucas sighed once he settled in, Imane rolling her eyes playfully at his dramatic display. 

"I thought maybe Imane would." He said, turning his head to face the other girl beside him, the one who was giving him a playful glare, which was quickly replaced by a smile before she stuck her tongue out at him. He reciprocated the action, lightly punching her shoulder as he did it, turning back towards Manon when they finished their childish exchange. 

"I was considering it.." Imane commented, but Lucas just threw a glare back at her in response, turning back so he could face Manon and the rest of the girls. 

"How's the party?" Lucas asked, which Emma chuckled too, taking a sip of her drink, wiping her mouth when she was done. 

"You mean my party? Great, I think. A lot of people came."

"Alex came," Daphne said, poking Emma in the stomach teasingly. Emma rolled her eyes and pushed Daphne back slightly, which she looked slightly offended by before replying. "What? Isn't it a good thing, girl?"

"Yeah, I guess, I mean..." She paused for a second, took another sip from her bottle, and wiped her lips again. "We're still not on the best of terms, so I don't know how he came..."

The little world's atmosphere shifted, from tranquil to tense, and Lucas looked down at his lap awkwardly. He knew the situation was difficult and complicated for Emma, hell, the whole relationship was a bit complicated, but he didn't know it would affect her so greatly. 

Which is why he was glad when Alexia changed the subject.

"Hey, Eliott came!"

Nevermind.

"Eliott? Like model Eliott, Elite-model Eliott?" Daphne asked with a surprised face and alert tone, and if Lucas saw correctly, a slight blush on her cheeks. 

"Who else?" Emma added, tipsy and slightly emotional.

"When did he come back?" Daphne replied, looking at Alexia intensely.

"Don't know, but people talk and I heard his name and 'here' a couple of times, so I put two and two together..."

His heart rate increased as the girls continued their conversation, his eyesight became fuzzy, and he found himself taking in more breaths than before. 

_ He was here, dumbass, how did you think you were going to avoid him? _

Why can't he talk about Eliott like a normal person? Why can he not reply nonchalantly, nod his head at the mention of Eliott and just move on? Sure, they had a connection, a friendship, but that was over and it was in the past. He was once Lucas' Eliott but he isn't anymore--

_ Shut the fuck up, Lucas. _

"Do you guys need a drink? I need a drink. It's superhot in here, putain, why is it so hot in here, Emma?" He knew he cut off the girls, they were probably in the middle of the conversation, and Lucas' sudden question probably came out of nowhere, unrelated, and sounded awkward. It sounded like he did it on purpose; he did, but he couldn't have them notice. 

"It's...not?" Emma replied, raising an eyebrow at Lucas in question, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he opted to get up from his space between Imane and Manon, ignored both of the girls' concerned looks, and gestured back toward the kitchen. 

"My drink is there; I'm going to go get it."

He needed to get away from this conversation. Now.

"Lucas, are you okay--" Manon.

"I'm alright, just thirsty."

"Lucas." Imane, but she hadn't said it like a question, but a statement, an order: Lucas, stay here, we'll fix it.

"Imane, I'll be right back. I just really need my drink." Now Lucas, just as quickly as he parted the group of dancing teens, entered them again, pushing past drunk bodies, tipsy bodies, bodies holding each other, bodies kissing--

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

If this was a party Lucas went to in high school, one's that Yann, Arthur, Basile, the girls, him, and Eliott went to together, Lucas would welcome these images because he can take them and mold them to his wishes. He would replace the dancing girl and boy to Eliott and Lucas dancing, the boy smiling and hugging the girl to Eliott hugging and smiling at him, holding him, and that's how he could spend his night. Lucas spent his nights wishing that he and Eliott could be that intimate, he would dream and imagine and hope, goddamn hope, that _maybe, just maybe_...

But then Eliott would leave early with a girl or guy in his arms, wave to them goodbye, and kiss the person in his arms. And Lucas would cheer him on because Eliott was smiling, and Lucas never wanted that smile to leave his face. So he let anything and everything that made Eliott smile stay, and watched from the distance. 

He kept doing that for thirteen years, and then Eliott left. Lucas let him because he was smiling. He was happy with modeling, and Lucas wanted Eliott to be happy. 

He still wanted him to be happy, but if he was there for any longer, knowing that Eliott was there too, he would throw up. 

When he finally made it back to the kitchen, Yann, Basile, and Arthur were there, passing around a joint that seemed to be half done. His presence caused them to look up, and all three boys just smiled at him, gesturing Lucas to join them in their circle.

"Where did you go, dude?" Arthur asked, holding out the joint for Lucas to take, which he did, quickly pressing the joint against his lips. 

He inhaled, allowed the drug to fill his lungs, and suddenly his brain felt fuzzy and his heart slightly lighter.

"Fuck dude, how do you always have good shit?" Lucas asked, holding the joint back out for one of the three boys to grab, that boy then being Basile.

"Good dealer. Anyways, where did you go?" Arthur continued, and his face sported concern, _fuck_.

"Spoke to the girls for a bit. That's it. It got too hot in there."

"Fuck yeah, no, so many people are grinding with each other that you can't even get through." Basile commented while he took another hit from the joint

Yeah, Lucas knew. 

"Yeah, it's a lot," Lucas replied absentmindedly, eyes shifting downward. 

"Kinda makes you want someone too."

Is the world playing tricks on Lucas? Everyone he had talked to today mentioned something that broke his heart, whether it was intentional or not. Fuck. 

He just wanted to go home, now.

"Yeah, ah, I think I'm gonna go."

"What?" Yann looked up at him, eyes scrunched up in confusion and then worry, expressions changing very abruptly. "Why? Lucas, what's wrong." There was no secret code now, just pure concern, and Arthur and Basile seemed to have the same expressions as well.

"Nothing, just feeling tired." His head was facing the floor and his eyes were shut tight, trying to reduce the incoming headache thumping Lucas' head violently. _Fuck, he can't_.

"Lucas, stop lying. If it's making you uncomfortable, we can just leave." Yann placed a hand on Lucas' shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance, comfort, but Lucas doesn't want to deal with that right now. He just wanted to leave.

"Yann, I want to go home alone." 

The hand stayed on his shoulder for a few more seconds, deciding, before it squeezed his shoulder one more time before it fell on and returned to Yann's side. He looked into Lucas' eyes, searched for something before Yann just let out a sigh, nodding at Lucas.

"Okay. Call me if you need me."

"Thank you." He said that one out loud, but he knew that Yann would have understood, either way, a small smile playing across his face. 

He pushed himself off the counter, left his drink on it, and headed towards the door, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he attempts to reach his destination. His relief. 

The door was already opened, and when Lucas walked outside, he could see that some people had decided to settle on the grass. That was understandable. It was too hot in there anyways, and the cool air that hit his face was comforting. 

Lucas stepped off the platform attached to the front door, hands still shoved in his pockets and started to head towards the bus stop. He needed to get there as fast as possible, feeling that if he stayed any longer, he would physically break down and combust. 

So his pace quickened and he pushed past the people on the grass, trying to avoid stepping on any people or tripping himself on his way. When he got to the sidewalk, he felt lucky, and the prospect of getting home was so close and sweet.

"Lucas?"

_ Fuckfuckfuckfuck-- _

"Lucas is that you?"

He froze, Lucas froze in his place and only curled himself more, trying to make himself as small as possible, because _fuck_, he knew. How could he fucking forget? It was all the universe and his mind wanted him to think about tonight.

"Lucas?"

He turned around, he goddamn turned around, because he was weak he just.

_ Don't smile. Don't smile or I'm done for. I'm done for Eliott Demaury-- _

But of course, of goddamn course, he was smiling, the brightest smile Lucas had ever seen. Eliott Demaury was beaming like the goddamn sun and Lucas was being burned. He was looking at the sun and his eyes were in pain. They wanted him to turn around, avert themselves, go inside, leave, do something, _anything_, just--

Lucas shouldn’t be surprised that Eliott looked good. Eliott had always looked good, at least in Lucas’ eyes. 

"Hi." His tone was warm, happy, and slightly nervous.

"Hi." In contrast, Lucas' tone was bitter, timid, and scared. He admitted it, he was scared, _so goddamn scared._

"How are you?" Eliott had taken a step closer to Lucas, and his eyes roamed Lucas' body, up and down, before setting on Lucas' face. He studied it, Lucas face, for a second, before his smile grew even more, becoming the genuine smile that Lucas remembered. Eliott's smile. His Eliott's smile.

_ No. _

"I have to go." It was abrupt, but Lucas felt sick, and he made the decision to divert his eyes towards the ground as soon as he said it because he knew. He knew that Eliott's expression would shift, his smile would leave, and he couldn't deal with that. He couldn't deal with making Eliott sad, he couldn't be the cause; but, he felt like he was going to throw up, his mind felt like it was being bashed from the inside-out, and his throat began to close. It felt dry, but his eyes were becoming wet, and it was all too much_. Too fucking much._

"Lucas--"

"I have to go, Eliott."

Lucas shouldn’t be surprised that Eliott looked good. Eliott had always looked good, but now, every time he looked at Eliott, he felt like he was going to get sick. Every time he looked at him, he saw lost opportunities, unrequited love, and broken hearts. 

So, he turned around, curled into himself more, and bolted towards the bus stop.


End file.
